All Things Must End
by Kaz Anagros
Summary: Fifteen years after Delita Hyral comes to power, his kingdom collapses. History repeats itself as a new hero rises from the ashes.
1. Prologue: An Era, Over

All Things Must End  
  
Prologue: An Era, Over  
  
The carriage bumped along the unpaved country road, pulled by two Chocobos. It was a fine autumn day, a chill wind whispering through the trees as they shed their leaves of gold and orange. The grass was still green, spanning the hillside like a dense coat of fur. Deep slashes, like a fresh war-scar, showed where fire had wrought the hillside in a vicious battle none too long ago. Barely forty feet ahead a crystalline stream flowed freely, relishing in the days before bitter winter would turn it to ice.  
  
Delita was oblivious to the beauty of the countryside, the curtains within his carriage drawn shut. All he saw was the dim light of the candle shimmering upon the oaken interior. He was getting too old for this. The rocky road shook him to his very bones, his immaculate gold armor resting cold against his flesh. Fifteen years, and it was falling apart now. Fifteen years ago, Princess Ovelia had died. He had wanted to give her a kingdom, a kingdom worthy of her. And that was how she had repaid him. He hated himself for doing it, hated himself every hour of every day for killing her. For killing his wondrous queen.  
  
The carriage clattered on, unaware of the torment of its passenger. The open hillside was being replaced now, the trees closing in on all sides. Skeletons now, wraiths of their former glory, they clawed at the wagon. Dusk's embrace lulled the woods, softening the harshness of the scene. Green shrubbery, sparse as it was, held on to life in the dead woods, green leaves reflecting the sun's dying light.  
  
And yet the beauty escaped Delita.  
  
Why, why did Ovelia throw her life away like that? After all he had done, why did she have to die? Because, Delita knew, he loved her. The cursed monarch, that's what he was. Teta, his beloved sister; Ramza, who was nearly his brother; and finally Princess Ovelia. He had come so far, worked so hard, but it had been for nothing. He had changed the world, used the users to make the world a beautiful place again. But the beauty in his life was dead, her blood on his forsaken hands.  
  
Sorrow was not the only trouble to visit itself upon Delita. Fear blossomed, not long after her death, and held a firm grip to this very day. His powers, achieved through embracing the holy powers of God, were gone. Delita knew himself now to be a Holy Knight no longer. Along with his God- given magic, something else inside the cursed monarch died. His will to live, his will to succeed was long gone. These past fifteen years advanced through force, taking his years from him prematurely. Delita was only forty, yet he felt much older, looked it too.  
  
The carriage jerked to an abrupt halt. Delita could hear the death cries of the Chocobos, probably pierced with arrows judging by the gurgle in their throats. So, this was how the cursed monarch was to die? The door of the carriage was cleaved in two, sending splinters flying. A knight with an unfamiliar crest on his armor held the sword, motioning for Lord Hyral to remove himself.  
  
"Come, Lord, You are needed," the stranger ordered. Prepared to meet his end with dignity, Delita stood. His armor clanked as he walked, stepping determinedly down the carriage steps. In front of him was the knight. Behind the knight were four squires and two archers. The troupe looked malnourished, weak. Delita noticed the archers were holding their bows incorrectly. Hard times had hit these young men, so hard that they were driven to this recklessness. This was to be Delita's fate? Struck down by these desperate soldiers? He had had only a few guards, not wanting to draw attention to himself, otherwise this would be no threat at all. But in this day and age, not being noticed was more valuable than intimidation.  
  
The kingdom of Ivalice had fallen apart shortly after unification. Without his spirit, Delita Hyral had proven himself a poor ruler, barely holding the lands together. He was blamed for the death of Ovelia and rumors spread like wildfire. While separate in truth, Ivalice was held together by the Zodiac Brave legend, the twelve stones held in Bethla Garrison. Nobody knew the powers they truly possessed; yet they knew Lord Hyral held all twelve. Soldiers paid to spread propaganda used this fact to relate their lord to Saint Ajora. While nobody truly believed it, it served as the glue that held together the lands. But that didn't matter now.  
  
Delita drew his sword, placing himself in a defensive stance. Revolution did not come without a price, and if these men wanted to change the world, he would see to it that they began by paying the price. The squires drew their axes, the knight using his position to charge Delita. A foolish move, making the first attack. Delita effortlessly ducked under the charging blade, ramming his sword up to the hilt in the unfortunate knight's armor. The man sputtered and gagged, spitting blood onto Delita's back.  
  
"If you want to change the world," Delita growled, shoving the dead man from his sword with a sickening squishing sound, "You must be prepared to lose all you hold dear!" Now the squires rushed him, arrows zipping through the air. Delita spun high, his sword cleaving through the wooden sections of the axes. The arrows missed by several feet as he ducked, slamming a shoulder into one of the hapless squires. He stumbled backwards, but not too far; Delita swung the hilt of his sword into the man's jaw, shattering it.  
  
"You've tainted this land for far too long, Hyral! We're sick and tired of nothing ever changing! Change will begin with your end," the remaining squire yelled, drawing his knife. Delita turned to him, prepared for this one as well. He just barely heard the whistle of an arrow, but by then it was too late. The projectile buried itself deep in Delita's armor, knocking him forward. A second arrow tore through the armor in his thigh, drawing blood and sending a ripping pain through Delita's body.  
  
The squire pressed harder, throwing himself to the side as Delita's sword swished past his ear. A sharp pain alerted Lord Hyral that the squire had succeeded; the knife was buried in his chest. The end of an era was near, the end of the cursed monarch was upon the world. But Delita's time was not yet up.  
  
"Master of all swords," he gasped, muscles shuddering in pain, "Master of all swords . . ." The will drained from him, dripping away like pus from a broken blister. Life and love flashed before his eyes, things he would hereby forsake. "Cut energy!" It was more of an undead roar than an order, "Night Sword!" Pain like he had never felt tore through Hyral's body. Every tendon snapped, every blood vessel felt as if it were bursting. Through tear- blurred vision he could barely make out the twisting snakes of black energy drawing themselves to the blade of his sword. The squire stood, motionless in fear, as the end drew upon him.  
  
The orb, the nexus, formed over his head first, its radiance sparkling like a thousand dead fairies, dripping like a priest's blood drawn by unholy blade to the pure earth, now defiled by hate. The ground responded with its fury, the dark blade of the Night Sword ripping through the ground as if it were the embodiment of the world's sorrow and suffering. The squire's soul was caught upon the spiritual blade, ripping from the body like an infant from its mother's arms. It collided, the buffer between the orb and the blade, as all three shattered and rippled out of existence.  
  
The defilement was drawn to the snakes of negative radiance, their impurity leaving Delita feeling defiled, raped. The life stolen raced into his own veins, the knife and arrows falling to the ground as if dropped by a careless child. The snakes recoiled, vanishing into the hilt of the blade.  
  
He was cured. The squire's life fed his own, the soul healing every inch of his physical body. All he knew now was this: Delita Hyral was dead. This unnamed warrior, this unknown monstrosity of human nature, glared at the remaining archers.  
  
"Anyone who asks," he growled, "Anyone who asks you. Tell them that Delita Hyral is dead. He was dead where you found him and you burned the carriage." The archers nodded dumbly, as he knew they would, and ran like the cowards they were.  
  
The fallen monarch, the wasted warrior, the lost soul gazed at his golden armor, the hands which held the sword he had tainted. But they were not gold. The armor was the color of rust and dried blood, a sickening combination of age and gore. He wanted to vomit, he wanted to scream.  
  
He wanted to feel anything at all.  
  
Cold, dead eyes looked upon the world, upon the forest of the dead. The trees clawed at him like the undead beasts they were, yet wisely kept their distance. The wraith held his hand out, whispering the one spell he could remember.  
  
Light danced before the hand of the fallen warlord, swirling green lights. They twisted and contorted, wrapped and bound. The light tied together, forming an orb. And then it shattered. Fire sprung up around the carriage, but not earthly fire. It was tainted, just like the rest of the Dark Knight's soul. Black, non-fire, controlled. It did not really exist, and yet it did.  
  
The magic fire danced, a dance of twisted and exotic carnage that had been seen many times before, yet each time it was fresh and exciting. The fire's beauteous dance almost made up for the destruction it caused. Almost. The dance reduced the carriage to a burnt husk in very little time, yet it continued to smolder and stink with the rest of the corpses.  
  
The no longer Delita would have smiled if he could; the beauty of the flames had for an instant brought him closer to humanity. But life as a human was over. They would fill his shoes at Bethla Garrison, the latest eager face would become the puppet monarch. Intricate governments would be set up to hide the incompetence and failures of the latest machine. Everything that went wrong would be blamed on him, the evil Lord Hyral who had led Ivalice to ruins. But Ivalice came broken, like a defective child's playtoy.  
  
That was all kingdoms really were, toys. Toys the biggest bully hoarded for himself, played with them until he reduced them to little splinters, then threw them away. That bully was Vormav. But he was dead now, dead with Ramza. Or at least that's what the former Delita assumed. Neither Vormav nor Ramza had been heard from in fifteen years, they were surely dead.  
  
Perhaps he would continue what Vormav started, perhaps the world needed Lucavi. Perhaps twelve Zodiac Braves would bring about the cleansing the world so needed. There was only one way to find out.  
  
And so the fallen lord turned from what was left of his life, what was left of his love, his hope, his humanity; and descended into the darkness. 


	2. Chapter 1: The Defender of Igros

Chapter 1: The Defender of Igros  
  
Misery in spades hung over the camp like Lucavi's bitter mistress herself. Hollow eyes of beaten soldiers watched the dancing flames, the trickle of smoke swirling up into the heavens, where each and every one of them longed to go. They longed for the fighting to stop. This, the Ivalice Death Corps, was the reincarnation of Weigraf's wonderful ideal, an ideal that now looked empty and mocking. Weigraf had been a great man and even he had not been able to realize the will of the Death Corps.  
  
Rumor had it that Weigraf had joined the church and forsaken all he held dear, but there was very little proof of this. Those who said that were only trying to tarnish a great thinker's reputation. Lord Hyral didn't want anyone thinking Weigraf could be half as good as he, and so the monarch tried to ruin the reputation of the enemy. More believable rumor said an assassin sent by Lord Hyral silenced Weigraf to keep him from starting a revolution.  
  
That was what the soldiers believed, and to them that was the truth. Looking through the shrubbery at them, Ramza knew if he told them the truth they would kill him. These soldiers did not want to truth, they wanted their lies to be real, they wanted Weigraf to be the pure man of commoner legends, the peasant's Saint Ajora.  
  
The soldiers were maybe twenty strong with three Chocobos. Very few still had tents, most sat around their dwindling fires, waiting for death. A tattered tent, slightly larger than the rest, sat in the center of the camp. A battered and beaten flag hung, dead still, over the top of the leader's tent.  
  
It was a pitiful affair, this beaten army of idealists. Already they had lost, their will to fight was gone, they were the living dead now. In only an hour or two the Ivalice Royal Knights would be upon them, crushing the remainders of the force that had so recklessly stormed Bethla Garrison.  
  
Ramza had only just returned, and yet he knew a great deal of the chaos Ivalice was being thrown into. Lord Delita Hyral was gone, some said dead, others said missing. Rumors of all sorts circulated, so many that it was impossible to determine which had any truth in them. What was fact was the movement of this army. Seeing weakness, they had stormed Bethla Garrison, three hundred of them total. It had been a gory and worthless battle.  
  
But the battle of Bethla Garrison was past now, it was no longer important. These men were destined to die and there was nothing Ramza could do about it. This worthless death, this useless carnage. Had nothing changed in all these years? Were humans still so base that they had to make war on one another?  
  
Ramza turned to his sister, Alma. She was just as young as she had been fifteen years ago. The escape from Murond had left them this way, stuck in time. Neither would age, now or ever, stuck in this never-ending mistake. Alma nodded, no words needed to be spoken. There was much more important work to be done than mourning over these lost and ignorant souls. Sparkling light danced around the duo, swirling, growing. It engulfed them, dying in a bright flash. And then both were gone.  
  
*****  
  
Kaz Tyrburn charged, a horrible roar tearing from his throat. The wave of soldiers behind him collided with that before him, creating a sickening, churning tide of death. The rift between them was breached, the Black Sheep Knights colliding with the Igros Mighty Guard.  
  
Upon the ramparts behind him were archers; their bolts of death falling like rain. Behind them, wizards prepared their spells, nearly ready to rip through the enemy. Below the support fire was the real battle, the knights. The tide frothed and churned, soldiers falling at alarming rates. The Igros Mighty Guard was well trained, yet not quite as well trained as the elite Black Sheep Knights, who held their own in the fight without more than a few archers for support.  
  
Kaz leapt from his Chocobo, drawing the two rune swords he kept strapped to his back beneath his ash-gray robe. He wielded the deadly tools better than even the enemy, charging headlong into battle. He wore no headgear, no sword could touch him. Stained black light leather armor covered him from foot to throat, light gauntlets giving him the freedom he needed to grasp two swords. But Kaz was more than a blight to the battlefield.  
  
He was a Lune Knight.  
  
A chemist standing on higher ground drew his gun, leveling it with Kaz's head from a good twenty feet away. The fool knew nothing of the powers of a Lune Knight, knew not the dangers of drawing a weapon on one. Kaz relished in moments such as this, the ultimate power it gave him. Commanding soldiers was nothing compared to the exhilarating rush of preying on ignorance, taking full advantage of what the enemy did not know. In most cases, it was a mistake they'd never live to learn from.  
  
"Demolish weapons with fury," Kaz said in an even tone, restraining the excitement of the moment. The Mighty Sword techniques of a Lune Knight fed off the calm that turned to rage, the order turned to chaos. Sword held high, he could feel the tendons of strength coiling across the blade, making it whole, filling it with his need. His mind's eye saw the chemist and the chemist alone.  
  
Time stood still, unmoving, the world was helpless to save the chemist. Now was the time to break the calm, now was the time to release the fury of the feared Mighty Sword. Now was the time for the earth to be rent by the cry. Kaz obliged with a shout, "Hellcry Punch!"  
  
The earth rippled and shuddered beneath the chemist, a small tremor of the spiritual world. The earth itself did not split open, yet yielded spiritually as the ethereal blade was drawn. The translucent blade was a bluish color, single-edged, the flat edge straight and perfect. It ripped through the chemist in spirit, engulfing his body in its raw power. The gun in his hand glowed angrily like a dying sun, resentful of all that would continue to live in the vast reaches of the universe. And then the ethereal blade vanished, the gun shattering into a million pieces.  
  
The chemist survived the agony of the Hellcry Punch, but was horribly wounded. He would not last more than a few moments longer on a battlefield such as this. The Lune Knight charged, determined to drive the king's elite knights from his lord's castle. His dual blades whistled as he spun and danced, a picture of harmony in so much chaos.  
  
Lightning rained from the sky, tearing deep gashes in the ground as it knocked the Black Sheep Knights into the air. Fire ran free as shards of ice graced the battlefield. Those still falling did not land alive, pierced by arrows from the ramparts. The Black Sheep Knights had underestimated the capabilities of the Igros Mighty Guard and paid the price.  
  
"Leave and do not darken Igros again with your foul presence! Your king is not wanted in this land," Kaz Tyrburn shouted at the retreating knights of King Hyral. Cheers went up from those who survived the battle, yet in the back of each and every knight's mind was this: There would be more fighting. Kaz knew this and welcomed it; Igros would not fall to the corrupt kingdom King Hyral had created, whoever the new monarch was to be.  
  
*****  
  
"Bloody damn it, Kletian, what are you waiting for?" a disgruntled Rofel asked. He looked not a day older than he had that fateful day when the gateway to Murond was open, save the nasty scar running from his right temple down the side of his face. His right eye was useless now, a white, glassy orb that saw nothing but perhaps the spirits that haunted him.  
  
"Quiet, Rofel. This spell takes time. It's not easy to get into the Bethla Garrison vaults, either we need this spell to be perfect or we need an invisibility spell. If you don't have one, let me work," the now agitated Kletian grumbled, returning to painting the incantations for his spell in a reddish mud upon the cleared forest floor.  
  
"What do we need the stones for, anyways? Velius, Queklain, Zalera, Adramelk, and Hashmalum are dead. We won't ever be able to resurrect Saint Ajora," Rofel pointed out.  
  
"That fool, Delita, has managed to collect all twelve 'Holy Stones' and put them in one place. And those you mention have not died, they linger in the world between worlds for a suitable body to be found once more. But that does not matter, I now know how to control the powers of the stones without calling forth the beast through the gateway. Now silence yourself and let me work," Kletian ordered. Rofel fell silent, allowing his partner to finish the job.  
  
Rofel and Kletian were the perfect threat, they were thought long dead. They, much the same as Ramza, had been trapped in Murond Dead City. Both had fallen to Ramza and his allies, yet neither had died. When Altima was destroyed, the power expelled was used as a means to power a teleportation spell, pulling them, and unfortunately Ramza and Alma, into this world once again.  
  
*****  
  
The cold stone wall shimmered, first a little, like a pond rippling. Rays of light began to shine through, small at first, then as the wall began to fade away, gradually larger. The light danced and reflected upon the surfaces of the Zodiac Stones. A circular area of the wall faded completely, leaving shimmering, radiant light. Two shadows stepped through into the Bethla Garrison vault.  
  
"Hurry, Rofel, grab one of the stones!" Kletian urged. Each stone was placed neatly upon a red satin cushion, all made presentable as if they were actually holy. Rofel pulled a stone from his pocket, looking from it to the stone, 'Cancer.' They were identical. He grabbed Cancer, placing the real stone back in his pocket, the phony on the pedestal. It was all going perfectly.  
  
Kletian had replaced Taurus with his imitation stone, turning to the portal. The light was beginning to dim; if they did not hurry the portal would close and trap them within the walls of Bethla Garrison. Grabbing Rofel's hand, he pulled him through, making it back into the forest clearing just before the portal snapped shut.  
  
"Perfect. Now nothing will keep us from our revenge," Kletian said with a wicked grin.  
  
*****  
  
The Lune Knight pressed forward, driving his troops even deeper into the enemy ranks. Lancers on Chocobos followed directly behind him, tearing the enemy camp apart. Men scrambled for weapons, tried to stand and face this new enemy. They were no match.  
  
With both swords drawn, Kaz Tyrburn led the charge, weaving destruction as he pressed forward. This attack had been his idea, to destroy the Black Sheep Knights once and for all. Twelve soldiers had broken away from the main attack force, wiping out the enemy's Chocobos. The rest of the hundred and fifty troops ran rampant through the camp, attacking anyone and everyone. The world had been turned upside down, everything was in a state of complete chaos.  
  
Kaz loved it.  
  
Then he saw him, the leader of the Black Sheep Knights was bold enough to join in the fight. Leaping from his Chocobo, the Lune Knight landed directly in front of the Dark Knight responsible for this loss of life. Swords swinging met shield and sword, expertly blocked by one who had lived on the battlefield for so long.  
  
"It's been a long time, Felicia," Kaz growled, swinging his swords with more intensity than before. Adrenaline hammered through him, pounded more strength into his arms. Madness gnawed at the edges of his mind, fraying him as teeth ground, fury boiling. Heaven and Hell in one blissful moment, one raw pure emotion indefinable by any single word any mortal had ever coined.  
  
"Yes, brother, yes it has. I trust you still believe you can protect Igros?" Felicia smirked, shoving first with her shield before swinging her sword to split Kaz's side. He blocked expertly, using the momentum of her shove to land a perfect back flip, springing forward with renewed energy to knock her off balance. This vicious dance, this beautiful fight, this unrivaled equality on the battlefield.  
  
This rapture.  
  
Kaz knew he could easily shatter her sword and shield, bring her defenseless body to her knees and cleave her in two, much the same way she knew she could steal fragments of his soul and bring him to his death. This was not a battle of special techniques, but a battle of pure swordsmanship. Steel rang on steel as the heated dance continued.  
  
"Always you impress me, brother! I have not had a fight so exquisite in as long as I can remember," Felicia said, her words timed with the dancing of her sword. All around them the battle was winding down, the stench of blood feeding the flames of their hearts. Dodge and parry, attack and counter attack, not a single blow met its mark.  
  
"Your Black Sheep Knights have fallen, sister! It is time to call this draw, retreat while you still can!" Kaz warned, leaping back several paces. Felicia nodded. Her sword found its sheath and with a smile and nod, she ran. No longer was she a Black Sheep Knight, but now, Kaz supposed, a freelance assassin. She would be fine, she'd lived that life before.  
  
"Knights!" Kaz cried, "We are victorious! Return to Igros!" With that, he mounted the nearest Chocobo, turning with the survivors of this slaughter to return to the land they defended so well.  
  
*****  
  
Felicia ran, half laughing half crying through the forest where the Black Sheep Knights had set up camp. She was free, finally free! Oh how she had hated working for Delita, she knew all about his past and didn't want to have any part in it. But this freedom had come at the price of her comrades, her friends.  
  
Fighting her thickheaded brother was always the height of her existence, yet it horrified her. One slip, one false move, and she would die. He thought so much of himself for protecting people, but really all he was doing was keeping a few people from death by slaying infinitely more. He had not yet realized killing is killing, regardless of the fact that he was several years her senior. Poor, ignorant fool.  
  
A bright flash distracted Felicia from her thoughts. Her pace slowed quickly, there were voices up ahead. She became aware of the fact it was now dark and a good deal cooler than it had been earlier in the day. Her cape had long been abandoned in shreds, her light robes not providing enough protection from the elements. Her brownish hair was held back in a braid, what wasn't clung to her forehead. She ducked behind a tree as the voices drew nearer.  
  
"Bloody hell, Kletian, was this the closest you could get us to Igros? Do we really have to walk all this way?" a man's voice complained. "Quiet yourself, Rofel. I told you, I haven't perfected using the Zodiac Stones yet. They're supposed to be a gateway between worlds, not a tool for amplifying magic," a second man's voice said. There was the rattle of armor, then a new voice spoke, "The Zodiac Stones? I don't know how you got them out of Bethla Garrison, but I believe they belong to me."  
  
There was a gasp of fear, then a scream. The second man tried to say something but was cut short, ending in a scream. Dead silence followed, broken moments later by the mysterious voice, "You can come out now, they're dead."  
  
Felicia stepped out from behind the tree cautiously, sword drawn. Under the nearly destroyed armor and disheveled hair, she saw none other than Delita Hyral! In each of his rusted and stained hands there was a Zodiac Stone, Cancer and Taurus.  
  
"I needed these," Delita said in a frightening tone, "You see, this world needs Lucavi. If nobody purifies this world, you pathetic little humans are going to continue filling it with shit. Do you understand?" "But," Felicia gasped, "But I heard you were dead!" "Dead? Oh, yes, I am quite dead. Do you know what happens to a Holy Knight when they give themselves in to the darkness? I'm the same as you, only more powerful than you could ever imagine," he said with a sickening grin. "How could you? How could you give yourself over to such powers? You're Ivalice's ruler, how could you betray us like this?" "Betray? What do you know of betrayal? I've been betraying people since I began the ascension to king. There is nobody left for me to betray. Now, if I am not mistaken, you were placed in charge of my Black Sheep Knights, shouldn't you be getting back to them?" The tone in his voice was deadly. "They're dead," she said, flat as stone. "Well then, we have a problem, don't we? Run. Now. Or else you may not live to see tomorrow."  
  
Felicia did just that, she ran. She didn't know why Delita was so close to Igros, nor did she care. Wits escaped the fallen knight as she ran for her life, into the darkness and away from the madman laughing behind her. 


	3. Chapter 2: The Fallen Knights

Chapter 2: The Fallen Knights  
  
The inky black curtain of night draped itself upon the land of Ivalice, holes in its otherwise magnificent framework showed the silver glitter of stars far overhead. Beneath the curtain, Igros castle glowed with dozens of sparks of flame from warm hearths struggling to fend off the chill of the night's sea breeze. Many miles beyond, enshrouded in thick forest, a telltale wisp of smoke floated skyward, marking the camp of the Igros Mighty Guard.  
  
Between these two, the castle and the camp, lay the threat. It did not approach fast, like the death that awaited those who stumbled over the cliff and into the ocean behind Igros; nor did it come slow like the agonizing death of slow, deliberate poison. It was deliberate doom, moving at its own pace in a world of its own. Silent now, it was the unknown, the most dangerous threat of all.  
  
At the camp of the Igros Mighty Guard, men celebrated around campfires, retelling to one another their brave exploits of the day, as if none remembered the battle. This façade, this joyous face, was their defense, the wall that separated them from their dead allies whom they had buried after the battle.  
  
Kaz Tyrburn could not lose himself like that. Sitting away from the light and the warmth of the fires, he silently mourned the loss of the men he had known so well, the men he had practiced with and grew up with. War brought death and he knew this, but to lose some of his own always hurt. It was duty, his duty, to see to it the Black Sheep Knights were crushed and that no word was sent back to Bethla Garrison. He had succeeded, but he felt a favor was done to them. None would remain to mourn their lost comrades, none would remain in such sorrow as he was in now. Perhaps the defeated were the ones who truly won in the end.  
  
In a matter of moments, the threat was upon Igros. To the knight, it felt as if it had taken hours, yet that was how the Zodiac Stones worked. Distorting time worked on the outside, not on the inside. The castle walls were cold and dead in the moonlight, the fires invisible. With Cancer and Taurus in his hands, He who was once Delita was determined to see the strength of just two of the stones. He would call them, call the powers, to bring about the destruction of this castle.  
  
It started with a growl, then a roar. The stones were illuminated from the inside, their signs glowing with the power that should not be channeled. In the grasp of one who understood the stones, they could, in fact, be channeled, the power that would provide the gateway would provide until destructive potential. First one lance, then another. Then another, and another, and another. Lightning rained down upon Igros from a cloud of magic, ripping and tearing at the stone ramparts. The fires in the hearths leapt, springing out of control. Cries could be heard within the castle walls as humans were burned alive, others struck down by the lightning that rained in golden death.  
  
The sea twisted, rising up like a snake ready to strike, the tidal wave suspended in midair. Then it struck, the unyielding force ripping at, crushing, destroying the west wall of Igros castle.  
  
It was over. The lightning ceased, the fires rampaged on their own accord, and the sea receded. Aside from the crackling of the flames, it was silent. The former Delita stared at the Zodiac Stones in wonder, feeling the first spark of human emotion since that fateful night. This was the power, the true power that all would soon bow to. His test complete, Delita turned and walked away into the night.  
  
*****  
  
Pulse pounding, heart pumping, legs aching. Felicia continued to run this way and that, snaking through trees, leaping over boulders. Something about Delita had chilled her to the bone, she felt she would be having nightmares for the rest of her life. That was, of course, assuming this wasn't a nightmare. Branches slapped at her face and chest, mud fought to pull her to the ground, a root nearly sent her face-first into the ground.  
  
Sweat beaded upon Felicia's forehead despite the cool night air, her limbs burned and ached yet she dared not stop. She didn't even know why she was running any more, Delita was not pursuing her. Perhaps it was that terrible sound, like a hellish storm, only a million times worse. There was no place to run, Gariland was out of the question, as she hadn't even reached the plains. And even then, the plains Mandalia were not a place to sleep.  
  
Finally, tired and aching, Felicia let herself drop beneath a tree. She drew her legs up, hugging her knees, and shivered in silence. So far away from anyone who would help her, lost and alone, she felt horrible. Was that madman really Delita? She didn't want to die, not here, not like this. She had always imagined it would be by her brother's blade, the way they fought so frequently. In a way, she was thankful; she didn't want to fall to him either.  
  
Things had never felt so hopeless before. She had lived as a mercenary in the past, yet never under conditions such as these. Her knights had been slain before her very eyes, the king himself had lost his mind, and she was lost in the woods. The undead probably roamed here at night. Strong and fearless as she was, the undead made Felicia quake in her boots.  
  
A low growl drew Felicia from her thoughts. In front of her was a Cuar. Not just one Cuar, but five, maybe six; she couldn't quite see in the dark. Still shaken, she stood and drew her sword, prepared to go down fighting. The first one leapt, its claws extended. The bulk of the Cuar's body met her shield, knocking her back against the tree. Felicia countered, swinging her blade hard into its side. The beast yowled and leapt back, blood dripping from the gash.  
  
"Stop!" a voice cried and suddenly . . . the Cuars stopped. It looked as if they were frozen in place. Her guard dropped, the tip of her sword touching the ground. Who could have done this? Felicia then noticed a man in a funny green robe with a ridiculous pointed hat standing behind the Cuars. Her first thought was that he might be a wandering jester, but then she realized him for what he truly was: a time mage.  
  
"Th-thank you, friend," Felicia gasped, giving the stranger a relieved smile. He seemed to ripple as he took his first step towards her, appearing maybe three feet away in less than a second. This did not shake her; time mages did things such as that frequently, only never quite as fast. She noticed one thing different about him right away: in his right hand was a katana.  
  
"Friend? You have just met me, how can I be your friend? For all you know, I could turn my magic on you and do as I please with your body. I might have saved you from the Cuars so I could kill you myself. Or perhaps I did save you out of the goodness of my heart. All things are possible, are they not?" The strange man said, his face blank.  
  
"Well, yes, but . . ." Felicia began. She didn't know what to say, what could she say? Her heart started pounding anew, would this man really rape her? She noticed in his left hand was a strange stone, although it did not appear to be a Zodiac Stone.  
  
"But nothing! The truth is, you are needed. Not here, not now, but for time to flow as it is fit, you must live. There is a time for you to die, of course, but that time is certainly not now. You must first obtain three Zodiac Stones and face Lord Hyral. But they will not be in Bethla Garrison, no, that would be too simple. By the time you return, the new ruler will be in power and will have given them to those he favors," the time mage informed Felicia, "But I must go now, my time here is up." And with that, he turned and vanished.  
  
Felicia stood alone, shaken. Who was that? She couldn't determine if he really saw the future or if, more likely, he was merely insane. But he did save her and he did seem more powerful than the average time mage. She sheathed her sword, the Cuars were still frozen. A dim light told Felicia she had been running for most of the night. She would have reached Mandalia by now, she must have been going in the wrong direction. But that didn't matter, she was at the end of the woods and there would have to be someone nearby who would help her.  
  
*****  
  
There was something wrong. Kaz knew not what it was, but could sense something was terribly, terribly wrong. It gnawed at his insides, screamed at him to urge his Chocobo faster, yet at the same time told him it was no use. He tried to ignore the voice, but it would not leave.  
  
It was then that he first noticed it. From here he should be able to see the highest tower of Igros, but he couldn't. It should be sticking up just above the hillside, but it wasn't. He tried to tell him it was nothing, his memory merely wasn't serving him correctly, but he knew deep down that that wasn't it. The hillside was not disturbed, there were no signs of an army moving in from this direction. Few enemies came from the north and any enemy coming from the south would have had to have struggled with the Black Sheep Knights.  
  
Kaz's Chocobo scaled the hillside, stopping at its peak. Kaz almost screamed. Below him, where Igros had once been, there was nothing but rubble. A few fragments of support structure stood like broken ribs amongst the debris, smoke curling up in black wisps from the shattered stone. A few bodies could be seen, some hands protruding from the rubble. It looked as if the very land had grown furious, ripping and tearing at Igros with its brutal strength. Magic could not do this, not even a time mage's Meteor.  
  
The knights behind Kaz had reached the hilltop too now, and were equally stunned by the grotesque sight below them. None spoke, all merely stared at their home, the home they were sworn to protect. They had failed. The Igros Mighty Guard had failed in their duties and it had cost the entirety of Igros castle.  
  
"You missed it," A casual voice said from behind a tree, "One man, holding two stones, just wandered out of the forest and destroyed Igros. It was quite a spectacle." There was no caring in the voice, no compassion. It made Kaz's blood boil.  
  
"Who are you! How dare you say such a thing," the Lune Knight bellowed. He leapt from his Chocobo, dashing around to the other side of the tree. Leaning casually against it, holding a katana in one hand and a stone of some sort in the other, was a time mage. "Tell me, who did this?" Kaz barely managed to growl.  
  
"Why, none other than Delita Hyral," the time mage said, his cold, emotionless eyes staring almost blankly up into Kaz's own. "Lies!" Kaz screamed, grabbing him by the throat. "Delita Hyral is dead, all of Ivalice knows that!" "All of Ivalice thinks that. Even Delita, actually. But he lives and that is why you must slay him. Seek out Felicia; the two of you must gather three of the Zodiac Stones. Oh yes, and you must do this without your knights," the mage stated. "But I can't just leave them! We have no home now, what am I to do, leave them here! We failed Igros, I failed Igros . . ." Kaz's voice trailed off. "This is how time is to flow. And yes, your knights could be a problem. Allow me to take care of it."  
  
The time mage shimmered out of Kaz's grasp, vanishing completely. He appeared only a moment later next to one of the knights, running his katana through the knight's heart. As they took up arms, he vanished again, appearing in front of another knight and slitting his throat, only to vanish again. Kaz watched in horror as they were all felled in this fashion before the time mage appeared once again in front of him, his sword dripping blood.  
  
"Hate me if you like, but this is how time must flow. Remember my words, and goodbye . . . " the time mage said, vanishing into nothingness. Kaz stood in cold shock, gazing brokenly at his fallen comrades. He couldn't yet admit to himself they were dead, didn't want to believe something so horrible. But he saw them fall. He knew that checking their pulses would do no good, but allowed himself still to believe in the fantasy of their life.  
  
As the Chocobos wandered from the gory killing field, it truly dawned on Kaz: they were dead. He sunk to his knees at last, beating the ground, screaming in mournful rage. He vowed to the wind that the mage would fall to his sword, time be damned. None responded to his cry, he was completely and utterly alone.  
  
Gathering himself, Kaz stood. Felicia could wait, this beast was to be tracked down. He turned, putting one boot in front of the other, away from his empty past at Igros. Something new in him brewed, something dark and dangerous. He could not yet grasp it firmly, but he felt death within his veins, mixing with the blood that gave him life.  
  
*****  
  
"Are you absolutely positive?" a nervous Ramza asked his sister. She nodded gravely before responding, "Yes. The time mage, Adam, was one of ours. He possesses the Zodiac Stone Serpentarius. That isn't the worst of it, though. He fully understands the flow of time and can see the fork just ahead, much as I can. He's guiding everyone down one of the paths." "And which path is that?" Ramza already knew the answer. "If he succeeds, the world will end within a year. Oh, brother, we must stop him!" Alma was deathly pale. It pained her just as much to know this as it did to tell Ramza. She knew more than she would tell, she didn't want to scare him so. Adam could find her by following the ghostly, almost demonic residue Saint Ajora had left within her body when she had been his gateway into this world. She had felt Adam probing her mind and had taken far too long to find a way to shut him out.  
  
"We will, Alma, we will. We need to figure out who the most important people he's manipulating are. If we can turn them away from his plot, won't it collapse?" Ramza asked. Alma nodded, "But it won't be that easy. He's set up an elaborate web, even more elaborate than the Shrine Knights. They relied mostly on brute force, he cannot. This is a very clever man we're dealing with. He also knows and understands you, brother."  
  
Ramza nodded. "We'll have to be careful. Is there any way we can make his time magic not affect us?" "Not as long as he has Serpentarius. We should reach out to Kaz, though. If we don't guide him, he's going to become a Dark Knight. You know how that typically corrupts male knights." "Gafgarion . . ." Ramza mumbled, almost a whisper. Gafgarion had been a friend, had taught him much of what he knew. And then he betrayed them, all of them. Ramza remembered vividly the final battle with the mercenary.  
  
He stood atop the gate at Lionel castle. It was dark, yet not cold quiet yet. There was not a cloud in the sky, the stars sparkling with their holy radiance as they did every night. But Ramza hadn't focused on this beauty, hadn't really seen it.  
  
"Wait here. I'll open the gate," he told his allies below him. Adam was in charge below, at the gate. Ramza trusted him the most, he was their tactician and also a good friend. His plans and skills had saved them all more than once.  
  
"Not so fast!" a familiar voice shouted up to Ramza from the shadows. His head jerked, his sword coming free from its hilt. Stepping boldly out of the shadows was Gafgarion. His armor wasn't brown, yet it wasn't quite black either. It was rusted now, traces of a dried blood color speckling it. The Dark Knight continued to talk, "You got in all right, but you didn't notice an ambush." Gafgarion whistled and the rustling of armor could be heard. Within a few short seconds, Ramza's allies on the other side of the gate were surrounded.  
  
"Damn!!" he cursed in frustration. He watched from atop the gate as Gafgarion drew his sword, its rust-colored blade blood red in the moonlight. "Ramza!" he called, "It's me you must fight with! En garde!"  
  
Ramza had leapt down the side of the mountain the castle was built into, knowing for sure that failure to fight would mean death. His friend had betrayed him long ago, there was nothing human left in him. Gafgarion could have just stolen his soul with Knight Sword, yet he did not. This was to be a battle of skill.  
  
Sword clashed on shield, recoiling for the second strike. Ramza blocked, swinging his blade, the tip making a whistling sound in the crisp night air. He was committed to fight this time, to make this man pay for betraying Princess Ovelia, Agrias, and even his own friend Ramza. The Dark Knight's skills were slipping as he aged and Ramza had no trouble blocking his sword.  
  
The duel could not wear on too long, Ramza's troops needed him. He leapt back a pace, focusing his energy into the sword. It radiated a pale light, the aura twisting and bonding with the moonlight. It was not as defined as an Arc or Lune Knight's radiance, nor as bright as a Holy Knight's, nor was it as sickening as a Dark Knight's. But that did not matter, it would accomplish its job.  
  
Ramza leapt forward, sword held high. Gafgarion threw up his shield in defense, which was exactly what Ramza had predicted. On contact, the radiance shot through the shield, sucking itself from the sword in a rapid and violent manner. The shield cracked, light shining from within before it exploded into nothingness. A knight's Break skills were not to be underestimated.  
  
Gafgarion cursed, trying to take another swing at Ramza, yet he was cut short. Ramza's sword found its mark, tearing through Gafgarion's armor and into his chest. The sword came to an abrupt halt as it hit the back of Gafgarion's armor, yet the damage was already done. Ramza pulled the sword free as his mentor turned rival fell to the ground.  
  
"Ugnn . . . is this . . . end?" the fallen Dark Knight gasped in his final few breaths. "Goodbye, Gafgarion . . . ." Ramza whispered, feeling the slightest hint of pain over the death of the man who had once been his close friend. But there were more important things to attend to. Ramza pulled the lever by the gate, which slid open only a few seconds later.  
  
The scene on the other side of the gate was ghastly, the enemy had been completely slaughtered. It appeared the battle had been brutal and Hugo's black magic had made a great difference in the outcome. The only one of Ramza's troops who appeared to be hurt was the knight Alice, who was being tended to by Rad, her lover.  
  
"We must save the princess before reinforcements arrive!" Ramza shouted, motioning for his loyal troops to follow through the gates. And still the stars shone on, the sky in no way reflecting the horrific battles that took place below it.  
  
"You're right, we must help him," Ramza said with a nod. Alma could sense the turmoil in her brother, yet said nothing. It would be better if they dealt with this first, keeping Kaz from corruption could possibly be the most important thing they could do to thwart Adam's plans. And so, much like so many times in the past, the duo vanished in a flash of light.  
  
*****  
  
Felicia's journey was off to a good start. After resting for the night at a Chocobo farm, she was off with a bought Chocobo on the long journey to Bethla Garrison. She didn't exactly want to return to the impregnable fortress, yet it was the only place that would have a listing of where the Zodiac Stones were sent.  
  
Already she was approaching Gariland, in only half a day thanks to the speedy Chocobo. There she would find a place to sleep using whatever money she had left before setting out once more for Dorter. She would have to find a job in Dorter as a mercenary, otherwise she would never have enough money to make it to Bethla Garrison.  
  
The sound of battle alerted Felicia, drawing her from her thoughts. Not far ahead she could see a man and Chocobo surrounded by goblins. The man looked odd, even from this far away, and if her eyesight proved true, he was holding two swords. Felicia urged her Chocobo on faster, drawing her own sword from the sheath at her hip. Whoever this man was, she was going to help him.  
  
The Chocobo charged forward. There was still a good distance before she could join the battle, yet she could see the man completely now. He wore loose pants of a grayish color which ended abruptly just below the knee, where light armor of a darker gray color was tied over brown boots. He wore a tight black shirt which accented his lean physique, the long sleeves trailing off into gray gloves the same color as his pants. He also wore a gray vest with dozens of small knives held by bands along the front. He wore no helm, having short brownish hair. He was young, yet appeared to be a trained warrior: in each of his hands was an expertly crafted katana.  
  
What shocked Felicia more than the man's appearance was his skill. A goblin leapt at him and for a second he moved as if in slow motion before striking with lightning speed, his sword severing the goblin's head in a spray of blood as his other sword was forced through a second goblin's gut. With the sword withdrawn, the beast slumped to the ground.  
  
Riding by, sword held out, Felicia raced past three of the goblins. They turned, startled, but too late as the sword cleaved through all three, leaving two dead and one mortally wounded. As she turned to make a second run at the monsters, she found the stranger had finished them off. He was cleaning his blades on one of the corpses as she approached.  
  
"Hello, stranger. I came to help you, but it looks like you didn't need it," Felicia said with a chuckle. The man looked up at her and smiled. The face seemed slightly familiar, yet she couldn't place it. "It is the thought behind the action that counts the most. My name is Azule, what is yours?" the stranger asked. "I am Felicia, commander of the- well, I'm merely a mercenary now, I have no place to go. Where are you headed?" Felicia asked, hoping he wouldn't question her past. "Gariland. You're going that way, so why don't we complete the voyage together?" Azule asked.  
  
Felicia nodded, stepping down off her Chocobo. The two talked together as they continued down the beaten path, onward into the town so boldly proclaimed Magic City. No more monsters would bother them on these plains, as their trek would soon draw to a close. The sun beat at their backs as the duo continued onwards to Gariland. 


End file.
